


Burst and Bloom

by spaceOdementia



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cloud is a SOLDIER, Drama, F/M, Inspired by the band Cursive, Inspired to complete from the remake, Mako is a weird drug, Memory Loss, Midgar is a hopeless place, Romance, Short Story, Some Angst with a Happy Ending, Tifa and Cloud childhood flashbacks, Tifa and Yuffie are best friends, Tifa and Yuffie lie and steal things, runaways - Freeform, title from a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceOdementia/pseuds/spaceOdementia
Summary: Tifa is an orphan who turns to thievery and fighting to survive the world. Yuffie adopts her the only way a ninja princess can, wholly and completely. They soon find themselves runaways from Yuffie's overbearing father, but when Tifa is caught stealing, they begin to learn that life is more than pure survival, and the past does not define the future—but it can help.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Yuffie Kisaragi friendship
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I started this ten whole years ago. TEN. After some revision, I decided I guess I'd post it because this remake is still killing me. It's a short story, and it desperately needs a beta and/or someone other than me to look over it, but this was a good exercise for me to give myself! I hope some of you enjoy. Happy reading! As always, any criticism, thoughts, love, hate are all welcome.

Tifa never did like being dependent on someone, especially when they were always too generous with how much they would give.

When she was taken under Godo's wing, it felt wrong. She didn't belong in the palace, and she didn't belong living like royalty. Before then, she'd never been in contact with so many rich, expensive cloths and jewels and privileges in her life. Luckily, when she voiced her discomfort, Yuffie understood.

"I run away a lot," she started saying one day, when they were out in the gardens, flicking rocks across the koi pond. "I can't stand living here, sometimes."

"Why?" Tifa asked. "You've got it all. You were born with it. Don't you want it?"

"Ya know, Teef," she said, grinning, "I don't like watching my people die in poverty while I'm stuck on a bed of gold coins. My dad thinks by keeping me locked in a tower, he'll protect me from all the bad, dirty things out there." She scoffs. "As if I can learn how to lead without knowing how our people live."

"Is that why you brought me here?"

Yuffie looked at her with a bit of thought. "Maybe," she evaded. Then she leaned in, deviousness invading the smirk on her lips. "Listen. I've been thinking about leaving for a while. Longer than I've been going. We can leave together, if you want. We can watch each other's backs. We don't have to rely on any one but ourselves."

That's when Tifa was thankful—more thankful than she'd ever been. Here was a friend, someone she knew she could trust without paranoia or loose fidelity. This girl, Yuffie, was for keeps.

Wutai was a big place. A big country. It was built up with subsections, towns and cities inside a wall of unity. Yuffie's and Tifa's boundaries were limitless, and as big as Wutai was, its boundaries were not as infinite as theirs.

One morning, it was decided. They hitchhiked to a ferry, snuck on board, and hid behind crates in the cargo hold. A week later, they were back on solid land.

Once they were, they began doing what they did best. Yuffie's was pickpocketing. Tifa's was stealing.

Tifa did not steal noticeable items. It only consisted of the coaxing of little things—necessary things. Food, water, clothes. Yuffie pickpocketed gil and trinkets—the required objects to sell and barter off.

They were truly thick as thieves. They found places to sleep in the dingiest parts of the city, the places where guns would shoot and women would faintly cry behind closed wooden doors, waiting for their husband, lover, whoever to come back to them, or for them to never show their faces again. These places were the parts where nobody would suspect them of anything. It disguised them and made them inconspicuous.

Sometimes it was hard, but what else were they supposed to do, being seventeen and eighteen, poor, homeless and needy? It didn't pass Tifa's mind that Yuffie was none of those things. Yuffie had everything Tifa had always desired, and she threw it all away for life on the street. It was all for the independence her father never gave her because he loved her too much.

Tifa had always been jealous of it. She had seen Godo, watched him keenly like a person watches a stranger hiding in shadowed corners. He was stern, and harsh, and sometimes he would be impossibly stubborn, never listening to Yuffie's requests and never giving her the benefit of the doubt.

But underneath it was a bucket of love, gilded with a golden border, richer than all the gold in Wutai. Yuffie didn't see it. Tifa knew she wouldn't, even if she told her. It was something she'd have to figure out herself.

Yuffie was foolhardy. She was never one to think things through in consequential situations. Someday, if she didn't learn soon, she'd get both of them killed. She'd mess with the wrong people, throw her shruiken at the wrong guy. What was a circle full of spikes versus a magazine of bullets?

So Tifa followed her, never let her do the harder jobs on her own. Neither could afford it, though Yuffie would get angry and annoyed at all the nagging, at the godmother role Tifa seemed to be playing.

"Once you prove to me that you can make better decisions on your own," Tifa had said, "I'll stop coming to the market with you."

The black market held a lot of valuable items unable to be bartered anywhere else. It held untraceable weapons and valuable pieces of information over different levels of society. Some sold unrefined mako, mako crystals, and materia—every distinctive brand of poison to satisfy all the variable needs of the people.

They'd been a few times with Tifa leading. She wore her brass knuckles underneath her gloves, so as not to bring them unnecessary attention. Yuffie was good at fighting, better than Tifa had anticipated, but Tifa had more experience with people who were serious and pissed off and didn't care if you died. It was different than trainers in the royal palace.

She purposefully strode up to an owner of a small time mako refining industry. The man could have been her father, in his mid to late forties. He had a beer belly and gray hairs peppering his beard. He smelled of sweat and metal, sitting across his own set up of wares—mako enhanced gloves, swords, guns. Metal on metal on leather, buckles and clasps and circlets. Mako did all kinds of things to weapons, and people, if you're lucky enough to find the right dealer. The man boasted about administering mako to prominent figures in the top tier, having luxurious clientele, and a list of names he'd love to give away for the right price.

"Have you ever seen your clientele injected with pure mako?" Tifa asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Several," he said, giving her a seedy glance. "Have you?"

"Not in a very long time."

"Well, you may be surprised. You're looking at one."

She told him, quite arrogantly, that he was a liar. He tried again to make her believe, showing her the wasted creases of his elbows, his skinny veins popping out of his skin. It was a bland show of bravado. She told him she was unimpressed.

He became angry quickly, and when he lunged, Tifa dodged, ducking under his closing arms. She landed a solid jab across his jaw. He swung blindly. She roundhouse kicked him in his gut. The impact had him sprawled on the floor, coughing for breath.

She always liked the sounds of a fight, all the cracks people made. It made her feel like she was in control of something purposeful and important.

Tifa reached over into his stand, lined with all the junk he'd been going on and on about. She felt for the hum of mako with her fingers and felt an empty chill. "This isn't enhanced."

He spat onto the concrete. The floor was already dirty with dried mud and grime from wandering boots, and his spit was unnoticeable.

"What do you know about mako, you little bitch?"

Tifa raised a fist above her head, a deep blue ball coalescing around her knuckles and fingertips. She wasn't going to do this, today, but she wanted to watch his face. Having the ability to make a man's condescension disappear was a powerful gift, and Tifa relished it.

"I know enough."

The man on the floor cowered in shock. "What…you're...but how?"

Tifa grinned darkly down at him. The reactions were always the same. Always fearful, always shocked and cornered. They thought she was a killer with a glowing hand. What else would she be good at? What else would she use the mutation for, if not breaking bones and taking lives? Nothing was as unsettling as a girl filled with bloodlust and poison.

"How else?" Then she leaned over before he could scramble away on his feet and hands, just like a crab, and punched him on the temple, knocking him out cold.

When Yuffie first learned about Tifa's abilities, she pleasantly surprised Tifa. She didn't cower away or look at her like she was a monster. She gave her a look of pure awe and envy, as if she'd give anything to be just like her. Tifa dispelled Yuffie's thoughts as quickly as she could, but Yuffie still seemed too interested in what she could do. A lingering glance at her hands, widened eyes at the blue. She was enamored, and it troubled Tifa.

Every time they'd do something like this, be it invading a dark corner of the black market or a secluded shop, Yuffie would play with all the items layered across the stand or the counter, twirl a knife across her finger and say, "Nice job, Teef. Real mysterious. Bet that guy won't wake up for a week."

Tifa would teach her tricks of the trade, how to barter, how to fool, how to bat lashes and smile and get what she wanted without lifting a finger.

Men were suckers for young girls. They were too generous. Too foolish. They didn't know a thing about them, and that's what made men the easiest targets in their line of work to exploit and manipulate, culling their pockets with an innocent smile and false naivety.

Others weren't swayed by feminine wiles. They both learned that the hard way, gaining busted lips and swollen eyes. It was a blessing they'd always managed to get away before the men were finished unbuckling their belts.

After several weeks, they found themselves successful, raiding an abandoned apartment and taking over, having enough money to last them for a generous timeline without forcing them to go out to steal and shimmy into a poor lad's pocket. They were cruising on their illegal possessions, things that weren't theirs but things they claimed were. Tifa had thought about getting honest jobs and gaining money the old-fashioned way, but honest jobs were hard to come by looking the way they did. They were half-starved and withdrawn, clothes secondhand and threads loose and dangling. They fixed them up the best they could with what they had, but they were street rats through and through, and there wasn't enough soap in the world to hide that.

It should not have been surprising when Tifa shimmied up to the wrong store at the wrong time, one of those days, flying high on success and the racing thoughts of invincibility that floated along so closely behind.

She was able to snag a small, leather bracelet from the store. It was easy. No cameras, no security tags. Just a small stand full of trinkets and earrings, sparkling and effervescent in the fluorescent lighting. There wasn't much sunlight where they lived. The sky was blocked by too much smog, the world perpetually gray and orange. Things didn't shine on the outside, the only colors available dull grays, blacks, and rust.

Even still, Tifa had seen Yuffie glance at those stands longingly the past few weeks. It was the least Tifa could do.

Tifa couldn't remember the last time she had a true friendship. If Yuffie wasn't her friend, she wouldn't be able to define the word. She slowed her walking, far enough away from the store to feel comfortable, and reached into her pocket. She pulled out the bracelet and examined it, running her thumb over the rhinestones and leather, feeling the contrast between them and appreciating it. She hoped Yuffie would like it, as plain and dismal as it was.

"Tifa Lockhart."

The voice chilled her to the bone, freezing her legs into the cracks of the cement. It was a rough voice, low, and the acknowledgement of her name felt more like a command.

"Put your hands above your head."

She swallowed. Her hands started to shake with a certain type of fear, and her stomach bolted down to her knees. She hadn't seen anyone around, hadn't picked up on the authority's scent. She'd only been caught a few times when she was younger, before she found herself in the palace in Wutai, and she vowed she'd never let it happen again. His boots were loud enough. Why hadn't she heard him?

She started to lift her arms, showcasing her surrender, before taking off. She ran down the rest of the street, as fast as she could go. She took a sharp turn at the corner, the reverberations of the man's boots reaching her toes through her socks. She was almost to the checkpoint, to the chain link fence that might give her the clearance of losing him. Just a few seconds extra to help her vanish from his sight. That's all she needed.

She was reaching out for it when she was jerked against it. She could feel her cheek bruising from the impact, the whole half side of her face pressed up against the metal diamonds. Her breath caught and she had a hard time gaining air. She could barely hear his words as he grasped her hands behind her back, one over the other, the feel of handcuffs closing over them.

Once she noticed them, she pushed and fought with all her might. She tried pulling her hands away, to free her wrists from his hold, but he was too strong. His gloved hands only gripped hers tighter, and there was a heat behind them, a slow fire that she was too well aware of. One she had, too. He must be SOLDIER, she thought. He's not just a grunt patrolman. He must have been looking for her. She slotted the information in her mind, and she tried measuring his distance behind her, positioned herself just right, and kicked her leg back.

He blocked her shot. He pressed a knee into her hamstring, effectively cancelling out all other movement. She growled under her breath in frustration. There was no chance in hell she was going to jail. She covered her tracks meticulously every time she went out. What made her so careless, suddenly?

He reached down and untangled her fists, dislodging the stolen gift with aggressive effort. He silently pocketed it, and Tifa's eyes went blind with rage. She shot her elbow into his ribs, the surprised puff of his breath hitting her shoulder. She quickly turned and punched him in the eye, running back the way she came, turning right into a narrow alley and never looking back.

"Hey!" She heard behind her, the voice still feeling as if it was hitting her shoulder. He was keeping up pace with her, relentlessly, and she felt angry tears forming at the back of her eyes. She never cried. Nobody was allowed to see her tears again, and it wasn't going to be because she was _going to jail._

She always prided herself on her speed, but in the end, he exceeded her. She knew that at the beginning, from his strength, holding her against the fence. It was an unfair disadvantage, and she'd always been at a disadvantage. It didn't change anything. Her mind raced. Perhaps she could twist it into her own advantage, using his ignorance of her capabilities. She still had the element of surprise.

He grabbed her arm once he caught up, huffing, cursing. "Last time, Lockhart. You're coming with me whether you like it or not."

She hunched her shoulders. "I don't think so."

He let go of her wrists with one hand, reaching up to grip her neck between his fingers. "Don't make me do this."

His gloves were cut off at the fingers. They were cold but were rapidly heating up, right inside his fingerprints. He was going to knock her out. Send jolts of mako through her, shut her off. Easy. Effective. She'd done it more than once.

She looked at him. "You don't have to. I'll go willingly if you let up."

He hesitated. She immediately took action.

Her wrists broke through the handcuffs, melting the lock just enough. She spun out of his grip, her blue light encompassing the entirety of her arms. She raised her fists in front of her, placing a foot behind her in a fighting stance. She wasn't wearing her brass knuckles today, and that was a foolish mistake on her part. She'd have to make do.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her, mouth parted and in shock, but he wasn't disgusted or repulsed by her. How could he be, when he was the same?

"You're…of course you are."

The rough, chilling edge was gone. He sounded like a boy now, and it matched his face better that way. He couldn't be older than twenty.

It was the first real look Tifa got of him. Blonde, erratic hair, blue eyes as blue as her glow. The lines of his face were sharp and defined, but his cheeks looked soft, a hard contrast along everything about him. There was a large sword on his back, glinting menacingly, absorbing all the light there was around them. His SOLDIER uniform even had an edge to it, all black – black vest and black pants and black straps. He had a shoulder guard, another metal. That's all he was made up of, black and metal and mako, just like the black market. The mako was so highly concentrated, his eyes were lasers, beaming like spotlights.

"I'm what?" she whispered harshly. "A monster like you?"

He put a hand up in front of him, placating. "You don't have to do this – "

She punched the air, shooting a fire ball at him. He dodged it.

"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do. Just give me the bracelet and leave me alone."

His eyes hardened. Gone was the boy. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"What? Give me the bracelet? Or let me go?"

"Both," he said, his lip curling enough to show part of his teeth. His already raised hand went to the hilt, then he swiftly pulled it out, the noise grating against her ears. She tightened her fists.

He set it out in front of him, the tip of it almost reaching her.

"Fine," she said, rushing a kick at the sword and lunging at the opening it left. He blocked her shot with his arm, bringing the sword around. She ducked a second before it came around, a piece of hair falling into her eyes. She rose up with an uppercut, clanking his teeth together on impact, his lip starting to bleed from getting caught in between.

He shoved the hilt into her side, a moment after she busted his lip. She rammed into the bricks of the building that bordered the alley, but the mako helped her gain back her breath quickly.

The good thing about mako was the recharging abilities it gave off. She could break her leg and be healed in three days. Her scars didn't last a month. She chipped a tooth once, but the enamel grew back.

The man's lip, on a quick glimpse, had already stopped bleeding.

She went in to punch his nose, but he whacked her with the side of his sword. She flew off balance and rolled across the alley, pushing herself up and glaring at him while bracing herself for another attack.

Surprisingly, he set his sword to the side. His jaw was set, his eyes still rigid and glowing. "Are you done playing games?"

Her glow started to wane. She hadn't used it for so long in one period since…before Wutai. She again cursed herself. She let herself go soft. She should have kept up her endurance. Feeling the unavoidable pull of exhaustion, all of her energy absorbed and dissipating, it made the fire of defiance in her heart begin to wane. _No,_ she thought. _She wasn't going to jail._

She shook her head. "You think I'm going to let you take me in?"

He sighed at her, inaudibly. She could tell from how his chest heaved and lowered and the exasperation in his eyes.

He set his sword onto his back, then shut his eyes for a moment. An ethereal green light started coalescing around him, like a light smoke suddenly starting to lift out in plumes of clouds. When he opened his eyes, they were glowing. It was unmistakable. They were brighter than the whites of his eyes, his pupils perfect, round circles that focused on her in all of their black.

He was frightening.

She dropped her fists down to her torso, stepping back once, then twice. She was ready to bolt, but it looked as though he was anticipating it with the predatory curl of his stance. In one leap, he would have her, and he'd take her in, and it'd be all over. Yuffie would be on her own, by herself in the big, wide world. Tifa knew for a fact that she wasn't ready. Only two months wasn't enough preparation for a girl to be out on the streets. She should haul herself home, to the loving arms of Godo. That's where she belonged.

But she'd never get to her to tell her. They gave themselves three hour windows, and if they weren't back or gave notice before that time was up, they were supposed to suspect the worst to happen to each other. Yuffie would know something bad happened to her. She'd go looking, even though she wasn't supposed to. She'd find nothing. She might do something stupid and really be in trouble, and Tifa wouldn't be there for her, to save her like she always did.

Tifa's eyes strained. Stupid Yuffie. Stupid friendship. Stupid bracelet. The world was a mean thing. It contained awful feelings and even more awful creatures.

The man in front of her wasn't an exception. If he opened his mouth and had fangs, she wouldn't flinch.

She dropped her arms all the way to her legs. She grasped at her shorts and bunched up the fabric.

The blue around her disappeared. It left her drained, tired, and, she'd admit, scared. She never felt scared toward anything. Mako did that. She'd always feel invincible, the magic running in her veins, but now, it was gone, because he matched and exceeded all of her power. He could break her in half, like a twig, and she knew it. He had so much more inside of him than she did. Willpower was not enough.

And stupid, dumb Yuffie, and even Godo, though she – they – betrayed him. They made Tifa feel like she was important. They gave her something to live for. Now, she was scared not only for her life, but Yuffie's, too.

She tightened her hands to lessen the shaking, and she pushed her feet into the concrete, to keep her upright and steady. She decided not to run away this time, not to be a coward in the midst of her fear.

He started to walk towards her, noticing her stance. He must have seen her resolve, because his gait was steady, his boots clomping one after the other. It didn't take him long to reach her, and if he felt pity toward her, he didn't show it.

He stopped a solid foot in front of her, and she absorbed his smoke, felt it whorl around her tongue and throat, electrifying her nerves, hyping up her already drained body. And she wondered, if this was what the vaporized mako did to her, what did the high concentrations do to him? What was he feeling now, underneath the thick haze?

He lifted a hand. "Either you come with me freely, I handcuff you, and we'll be on our way, or…" he gestured toward his uplifted hand. "Or I make sure you come with me, and you'll wake up in a cell. Your choice."

As sticky and sweaty and jittery as she was, she wanted to know what it was like. She wasn't a junkie – she'd never even tried the stuff outside of the accident – but she was intoxicated. All of it dug into her skin like needles, like millions of parasites feeding off her. What did it taste like, what did it do? Did it give him inhuman strength, just like she thought? Could he _really_ snap her spine clean through? Did he have power, all the power in the world? Could she feed off of that power? Could it take her away?

That's what she really wanted. For it to take her away – not to jail, but somewhere that wasn't this alley, or this world, or places that sold guns and murder on a piece of paper. The mako was just an enzyme, speeding up all these wants and thoughts. It made her dizzy, and her stomach felt sick, but the real thing that mako did – the absolute that she saw right then as she stared at him and into him, was that it always made you desperate for impossible things. Dreams and daydreams. A playground of surrealism. She tried to ignore it, because _she wasn't going to jail, she would get away from him, she would save Yuffie and create a new life for them in a new city and get…_ away.

She was no match for it. Her defiance made her weak and shortsighted. Did she really think she'd get away from a SOLDIER?

"Take me away," she whispered, reaching for his hand with her own.

He seemed to realize what she was doing a second too late. She placed her palm against his, and her hair flew back at the rush, the sensation. One touch, and her nerve endings caught on fire like dried grass – all of them burning up into ashes. She wouldn't close her eyes. She didn't think that she could. All her limbs were tensed, her muscles contracting and relaxing, once, twice per second. Her lips twitched, and maybe she _was_ blinking, rapidly, faster than she could tell. Her eyes watered. She thought, maybe she was crying on the outside. Really crying. Maybe she was dying, too. Her heart squeezed painfully, fibrillating and fraying at the edges.

She didn't care. For the first time, she didn't care that someone was watching her disintegrate, change, turn back into a little girl who lost her way.

Then it was over, all her fuses shutting off in her mind and her heart. She fell backward, and the last thing she thought was, _I'm sorry, Yuffie. I'm going to jail._


	2. ii.

She woke up on a cot. The mattress had springs poking through and stuffing falling out, but it was no better than at the apartment. She sat up and was surprised to find her back twinging, like she had been sleeping in a weird position for a few hours all day. Or all night.

She flew out of the bed and looked out of the small, barred window, giving her the barest glimpse of the outside world. It was still daylight, though the sun was waning a bit, sunset an hour or two away from coming down.

Yuffie would be far from wondering, now. She'd be out searching, by herself. All by herself.

Tifa sunk down the wall, landing haphazardly in a messy heap. Just a bracelet. A silly, worthless bracelet.

She rubbed a hand across the empty pocket, reminiscent of the leather filling it up, except…

The bracelet was still there. She pulled it out, looked at it, wondered if that green mako was more potent than any of the illegal variations, creating all these delusions.

She stared at it for the longest time. Sunset descended before she stood up. She wiped at her face, because the tears wouldn't stop now, not after that stupid boy. That stupid SOLDIER. He ruined her life. He put a wrench in their plans. How dare he put this hope in her pocket, only to taunt her with this cell?

The door outside of her cell opened, and she wiped more vigorously at her face, scrubbing away any other evidence, before shoving the bracelet into its safe home in her shorts.

"Look who's awake."

It was somebody else. His hair was under an issued uniform cap, maybe a brown color, and he had kind eyes. All she wanted was the boy who gave her all this hope in her pocket, and all the hopelessness of her existence.

"I want to see the guy who brought me in."

The man gave her a funny look. "Cloud?"

She didn't know the name. She assumed it was right. "Yes."

"Sorry, sweetie pie, but we're gonna have to take you in for questioning first. We had to wait 'til you woke up. You made quite the fuss for such a small thing."

_Sweetie pie._ Tifa glared. "Not unless I get to see him."

The man laughed. "What'd he do to you?"

His eyes held endless humor, and all she wanted to do was jam her fingers into his eye sockets.

"Tell you what," he said, voice appeasing. "I'll let him go into your cell if you'll answer questions for us without any hassle. Deal?"

Questioning was a pointless affair. _Did you steal this, this, or this? Your records show several offenses of petty theft. Were you at this location at this time on this day? Have you had any contact with Wutai? With King Kisaragi? You have been reportedly seen with is daughter, the princess. Where is her location?_

No.

No.

No. I don't recall. I don't know.

What'd they expect her to do? Tell the truth?

Suspiciously, they let all her lies slide. They knew she was a liar. They let her off easy, and that was scarier than anything. They had something planned for her.

She was locked up again in her cell afterward, chained to the wall this time. Whether it was some sort of precautionary measure or not, she wasn't sure. It didn't bother her much. She'd be able to slip right out of them if need be.

It wasn't long before the door creaked open.

"As promised. Took a while to find him. You should thank me," a black haired SOLDIER called over to her through the bars, leading Cloud to her cell. He opened the cage door with a large, unrealistic set of keys before leading the blond haired boy in.

"I'll be back here in twenty."

Cloud nodded to him, his mouth a grim line.

The SOLDIER pointed at them. "Behave yourselves." Then with a grin, he slipped out, the rusted door shutting with a bang. Tifa wondered where these men got their happy spirits. They grinned too much. They were too brazenly carefree.

It was deathly quiet for a minute as Cloud stared at the gray, brick walls and as Tifa stared back at him. She was willing him to look at her, maybe acknowledge her, just for a second. Maybe just a moment, so she could see if he really was as indifferent as he was acting.

She took a breath. She couldn't get the figure of him, glowing that rancid green, out of her mind. His eyes were a vivid blue now, a far cry from the luminescence they could be. A Jekyl and a Hyde, hiding away, nobody knowing except for who saw him. She had two sides, too. She'd never met another one before, and it was strange. It simultaneously ate at her curiosity and her discomfort.

This was his job. All their jobs. He'd volunteered for the injections, the risk of losing his life to a test, the risk of falling asleep and never waking up.

There were many parallels to their lives. She might not have woken up in that mako pool, drenched in salts and liquefied poisons, the earth's blood soaking her lungs.

"Why'd you do it?" she whispered, still looking toward him.

"Do what?"

He must have carried her, dropped her onto the bed, she realized.

"Give the bracelet back. Why?"

She watched him swallow, still glancing away from her. She could see the side profile of his face.

"It was worth less than a gil. You seemed to want it more than enough."

She turned her head down to her pocket, trying to will the leather to come out and reach her hands. It was pointless to have it, now, but its presence felt comfortable. It felt like if she didn't lose it, Yuffie would be infinitely safe.

"I did. Do." She paused. "If you let me have it, and if it's so cheap, why'd you bring me to the cell? Why didn't you let me go?"

"You're wanted for various crimes, Lockhart. Petty thievery is one thing, but kidnapping a Wutain princess is in a league of its own."

Tifa's blood chilled. That was why they went so easy on her during the interrogation. _Kidnapping._ She stared at the ground in front of her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"We have a thorough inquiry from the Royal offices of King Kisaragi. He is very concerned about his daughter, and he is willing to offer the Midgarian government a substantial amount of money if we find her. He described you in vivid detail."

This was the first Tifa had heard about this. She wondered, momentarily, if he was lying. His face was inscrutable with all its smooth lines and sharp edges. It wasn't hard to believe that it _could_ be true, and the probability was high that it _was_ true. If it was, the only thing Tifa could count on was Godo's love for his daughter. Two months of freedom was a significant amount of time to let Yuffie play at rebellion. Perhaps he was finally done waiting for them to come back, and Tifa didn't think he would spare any route to get to her. Tifa was a weakness in Yuffie's defenses. It would be easy to use her to bait Yuffie's capture. The bracelet burned in her pocket. Tifa began to care about her too much, and she swallowed the acid building in her throat. It was the worst time to begin caring about someone. Yuffie would be taken away from her life, and Tifa would be alone again.

"If I believe what you say, what happens to me if I don't answer? I don't know where the princess is."

"We will perform whatever means necessary to get the information."

The threat spread through the stale air of the cell like spider webbing, sticky and insidious. She glanced up to the barred window. "Fine."

"Is that all you wanted?" he asked.

His voice was monotone and bland. Was it a conditioned attribute for all SOLDIERs? She thought about the easy smiles of the others and didn't believe it was supposed to be.

"Why are you like me? Why did you choose this?"

He slowly shifted his stance, his head lifting to look up to the ceiling.

"It's a long story."

"I've got time."

He made his eyes trail the journey over to her, looking at her for the first time.

She pushed her back further into the wall, feeling the ridges of the brick bite at her shoulders.

They both had their secrets. She had ample experience dealing with secrets from lonely men, and the best way to coax them out was to buy them with her own. Fake, real, it didn't rightly matter as long as she could sound sincere. She swallowed her discomfort, thinking of Yuffie all the while.

"My hometown burned. They said it was a forest fire, caught on a roof of a house and taking over everything else. But there were men there. Men who looked like you," she said quickly, jabbing her eyes into his accusingly. "One tried to drown me in a pool of mako, but he wasn't successful. I blacked out and woke up later in a ditch."

She'd never told anyone before, not even Yuffie. She'd gotten too close to her, and now the opportunity had passed. Maybe it would have been easier to tell her before she realized Yuffie was her friend. It was such a personal thing. She'd never see the SOLDIER again after this, and it was easy to allow it with someone who was inconsequential.

"Now, I'm here. Why're you?"

She saw his chest rise in a deep breath. He waited a minute or two, like the time wasn't ticking when he was there with her.

Tifa was about to give up looking at him, trying to coax the words out with her eyes, when he started.

"I'm here because of a girl," he said.

"A girl?" Tifa prodded.

"She didn't know."

"Didn't know what? That you left for this?"

"That I left, or that I did it because of her."

"Why?"

He made a noise, a small scoff, maybe. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You loved her?"

He didn't answer the question, and he remained silent. Tifa took a chance, guessing that he did love her, whoever she was. He must have. It was full of risk. Reckless and careless risk.

Tifa stared at him. "You didn't tell her, did you?" she said. When something like love was involved, things never ended well.

"No."

"Did she know you loved her?"

"She didn't," he answered, and it was certain.

"Then why do it?" she asked. "Couldn't you have just told her?"

His face seemed to grow tight. "No."

"Why?"

He stared at the ground awhile, until a wry smile spread on his face. "Would you?"

She was struck with an immediate answer. _No._ Because of what she was, now. She'd put them in danger, just as she had with Yuffie. She had to live with the guilt of that forever. Yuffie wouldn't have gone back to Godo. Maybe she would in time, in a few years, but not now.

The burden was already heavy. She didn't want to add to it. Besides, for someone to love her, they'd have to live with what she was, and who in their right mind would risk that?

But before she was like this, she thought she would have. She would like to think she'd open up, lend her heart, and hope it was enough.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of another attachment. Of someone following her around, of holding their hands with the gunshots in the background. The ones she always got close to left or died. She avoided them as best she could in the past, but everyone gets lonely. That's why she brought Yuffie along, thinking she would change her mind in a matter of days. But she didn't. She stuck with her, and that plucked her heartstrings like nothing ever did.

She decided to say, "I understand why you wouldn't go back to her. There's a lot of burden with this." She let her hands lightly glow inside their cuffs. "But there was a time when you weren't like this, and you still didn't tell her. Before I was like this, I would have. I would've at least done _something."_

It's silent for a while. "I had to see," he said, almost reluctantly. "I had to see if I had what it took to protect her."

"What's she like?"

It was silent again, before he finally decided to speak. He glanced at the cell walls.

"She was kind. Strong. She was always there for me when I needed her."

Tifa caught the detachment in his voice, the strain. "Was?"

"She died," he said. "Three years ago."

Now, he has nothing left, Tifa thought. He was just like her. She almost told him she was sorry, but nobody else was sorry. Things happened. Shit happened. Some fall, but they get up. Some fall, and they don't get up. They bleed, and they die.

Now, all that this man has left is his job. Of finding criminals, ending their lives, and cleaning up the streets of one town in a small, close-minded world. She wondered if this could compensate. Where he couldn't protect the woman he loved, he could protect the rest of the good people. The kind and the fragile from the mean and the vicious.

His face gave nothing away. No happiness or sadness, no contentment or emptiness.

"People die," she said. "No matter how hard you try. That's how the world works."

"She died in front of me," he answered, his voice sharp and angry. There was more emotion in him, now, roiling under the surface. "I was there, but she still died. She was the most important thing, and I couldn't do anything about it."

There it was – the guilt constricting his throat, crinkling his eyes. She was very well aware of what it was like.

"It's a heavy weight," she started quietly. "But you've got to learn how to hold it or else you'll break."

He swallowed, diverting his eyes to her chains.

They stayed like that, breathing in their thoughts, until the other SOLDIER came in to escort Cloud out, the large bangle of keys in tow.

"Time's up, lovebirds." The man winked at them, smiling even though Tifa was sure he noticed the thick pall in the atmosphere.

Cloud left without a glance.

* * *

It turned out that she had to stay in jail for at least three months for petty theft. It would give them ample time for interrogation about Yuffie.

She'd spend her days restless and anxious. Her hands and body always twitched for some type of action. She put it upon herself to slip her wrists out of their bonding, walk around her cell, and practice her martial arts. She tried to build up her mako endurance, to see if she wouldn't get so tired if she practiced fighting while using her glow simultaneously.

She tried going to the window and heat the bars enough to bend them and break them off. They turned out to be resistant, adamant to all the forces she exerted on them. The cell bars were the same.

A grunt would occasionally take her to the interrogation chamber, and men in suits would needle her with questions and punches, asking her where Yuffie was and threatening her with all kinds of fanciful notions of what they would do to her next time if she didn't fess up. It was easy to lie to them. Yuffie was their only gambling tool, and their interests were in keeping her out of harm's way. Tifa had no other weaknesses to bargain.

That was what made up her days. Working out, trying to force her way through the window, then ending up looking out of it longingly, taken to interrogation, then waiting for the tray of food to be delivered after.

They let her shower twice a week. A small toilet was provided at the other end of the cell. They provided prison wear, though when she'd take a shower, she'd wash her own clothes and wear the prison ones as pyjamas.

During the second week, much to her surprise, Cloud came to visit her.

It was in the middle of the night. Tifa wasn't sleeping, only lying on her cot, staring at the streak of moonlight shining tauntingly through the window bars.

He had a singular key on him, and he stepped into her cell.

"Hi," she said, as she watched him sit on a bench opposite her cot.

He nodded back, but his eyes were determined as he stared at her. He lifted his left hand, and he made it glow.

"What do you feel when you use your mako?"

At first, she was startled. Then entranced. His hand was like a dim lightbulb, giving off an eerie tone. Was this a ploy? Another tactic of interrogation? She wasn't sure.

Several answers came to mind. Powerful. Invincible. Unstoppable.

"Free," she answered.

"What do you feel after you stop?"

She hesitated. "Tired."

"Weak?"

"It's getting better."

He took a breath. "What did you feel when you touched my hand? When I arrested you?"

She blinked at the question. The memory was blurry at best. She remembered her hair whipping back, her body collapsing from all her taut nerves. She couldn't remember the sensation – if it set her free or left her stranded. She remembered a desperate touch of the impossible prod her mind, but she blacked out before she could find out what she was thinking.

"Something desperate," she said, knowing it wouldn't make much sense. "I can't…remember a lot of it."

His hand was still glowing. He gave her an earnest look. "If you touch my hand again, it won't be as concentrated."

He was implying for her to reach out. It was a strange request. It made her wonder if he felt anything too, that day. She was too blind to watch him, too encompassed by sensation.

She edged to the corner of her bed, placing her feet on the floor. "I don't understand."

He was quiet for a while as he stared at her. "Trust me," he said.

She almost wanted to laugh at the words. Trust him? She would never trust him. But to lie to him, to make him _think_ that she could trust him, what good would that do for her?

His hand was glowing ominously, the green of life. It seeped through the air and electrified her eyes and lips and hair. It was like a kiss.

"I _don't_ trust you."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

She glared at him. "Do you think you can you find out where the princess is? Can you read my thoughts with that mako trick of yours?"

He hesitated. "That's not why I'm here."

"Then what do you want from me?"

His jaw clenched. "I…want to show you something."

"Is this an order from your superiors?"

"I'm not supposed to be here. They don't know about this."

They looked at each other. Tifa hesitated. This felt different. It was easier to read his frustrations in this lighting. The darkness of the room and the shadows lingered in the skin of his face. It was hard not to believe him, but she couldn't. It was a trap. It must be.

He took a few steps closer, and Tifa pressed her back into the wall behind her. He paused at her reaction, and his eyes flickered with something. He kneeled before her, and she watched as his throat bobbed in a swallow.

"Please," he said.

Her stomach curled at the word. It was simple, but it held the grip of desperation. It reminded her of the bracelet, still tucked safely away in her pocket, burning with naïve, undying hope.

She watched him for a long minute, eyes glancing to his hand. The green was not rancid like decay. It was vibrant and brilliant like a possibility.

What did she have to lose? Yuffie would be safe. She had to be safe. Godo would never let anything come to harm her, if what Cloud said was to be verified. Godo might even be crazy enough to start a war if Yuffie was harmed under Midgar jurisdiction. That was what Tifa trusted, she told herself. Here, she felt like she had run out of any other options, and the green light surrounding her _felt_ like a possibility as much as it looked like one.

She reached out and touched his hand. The sensation was one in the same as that first day. She suddenly remembered, like déjà vu. The impact was sedated, her hair waving slowly in a lazy breeze. Her nerves didn't twinge as heavily, her muscles were smoothly contracting and calm, massaging her bones.

She let her eyes shut, concentrating on the feeling. The impossible desperation, the pull of the tears on her eyelids. There was something different about it. Old, tarnished pictures ran around her mind, her mother and father, her home, her town, her old school friends. Things she thought she remembered, but memories that felt ripped from her mind, jagged edges trying to fit back into the blank spaces. So many images that didn't make sense but felt like they could. They buried her with the sensation of home.

They were all impossible, except the feeling of impossibility was dissolving into an ache of _possible_ , like it was all in reach, like if, somehow, she waited a while longer, if she prayed a little, ran a little, the hope her heart felt would exonerate into something tangible. It felt as if, instead of the memories tugging on her eyelids, they were starting to tug on her lips instead. She wanted to smile.

But she was too weak to smile. She was too weak to move. She opened her eyes, glanced at their hands and at her body, watching as the harsh blue light she gave off was fading into a dissipating smoke, a thin, transparent fog. Slowly, slowly, it was diminishing.

She gasped, trying to take her hand away from him, but his thumb had curled around it and she was too weak to pull it from him.

"Stop," she whispered hoarsely. "Stop it."

His eyes snapped open, a strange, ever-changing aquamarine. They were at a higher concentration than when he had transformed the other day, with bright fluorescent lighting. His pupils were dilating, wide and black.

The more they changed, the weaker she felt.

"Let go," she said, trying to jerk away. Confusion warred within her. Besides the weakness and the foreign feeling of something leaving her, she felt the weight shrinking. The burdens she had on her shoulders were losing the pounds, shedding their fat. As helpless as she felt, it didn't take away the small glimmer of happiness that she felt, too.

Like a bolt, she realized what he was doing. She concentrated all her might against him, and broke free from his thumb, breathing hard and strangled, feeling beads of sweat slip from her neck and down her shirt. Her heart was beating erratically, all her muscles shuddering.

And Cloud, she noticed as she stared at him, looked frayed. His skin pale and clammy, sweat framing the line of his forehead. He was breathing just as raggedly as she was, eyelids halfway opened with sunken cheeks.

His look was haunted. Ghosts were on his shoulders, invisible and unseen, but prominent and heavy.

Tifa felt lighter, like she could be happy if she wanted. If she led the life she read in those possibilities he had shown her.

When she looked at him, she wasn't happy. She had inadvertently stolen something from him, but she didn't know what. The rest of his youth, the part of his soul he kept away from the mako? She didn't know. Her glow was so, so dim. It made her sick. It made her—she didn't know what it made her. Who would she be without the power?

He took her burdens away, like a comfort, a hug, a kiss no one had offered before, and she hated it. It was selfless generosity on his part, and for what? What would he gain from this?

"Why did you do it?" she said, and she felt the warm tears creep down her cheek to her jaw.

He breathed deeply a few times. "Because I can handle it."

Because he was so poisoned, what did it matter, anyway?

"No," she cried, and she felt her body fall off her bed, crawl to his feet. She placed her hands on his knees. "No, you can't."

It seemed he couldn't. It took him a few seconds to give in, but he finally turned to the side and threw up.

"Shit," he groaned, but most of it was spit and stomach acid and what looked like small slivers of rock. On further inspection, they were shards of mako.

Tifa couldn't stop crying, as she watched him curl in on himself. His arms where shaking, and he looked very, very tired.

"Cloud…who are you? Why did you...?"

She reached over and took the side of his face in her hand, fingers landing in his sweat drenched hair. His head lolled into her palm. He lifted his hand to touch hers.

"You died once," he whispered, silent and hoarse. "I won't let it happen again."

Her hand fell from his face. His eyes were still aquamarine as he stood up shakily, turning his back on her and leaving her cell.

He left the door unlocked.

She didn't leave.

* * *

He didn't show up for another week.

He had left Tifa with a rampage of thoughts, but all she really wanted to know was how he knew her. She didn't remember him. How he could have…loved her, if they had never spoken.

Her limbs weren't as weak, and she was eventually able to get back into her routine. And though she felt lighter, she didn't feel any freer.

"You were supposed to run."

He took a spot on the same bench he sat in the week before. He seemed normal again, with his deep blue eyes, full cheeks, clean hair.

It was night, and she was already sitting up in her bed, cross-legged and huddled up near the wall.

Instead of answering him, she simply said, "I'm supposed to know you, but I don't remember you."

He thought about it for a while, sitting back. "I'm not who I once was."

"Neither am I."

He stared at her. She stared back.

"Why did you take away my poisoning?"

"I didn't take all of it."

"Tell me," she demanded, already feeling her eyes water. She hated her newfound weakness. Alone with him for a few minutes, and she was already feeling too many emotions—so potent and powerful. She had never realized how much mako had blunted them, was a protective balm against their wounds.

He swallowed, looking away. He seemed to move inward on himself, as if he couldn't properly create the words.

"I can't."

She blinked away from him, staring at the bunched sheets of her cot. She wondered if they had been friends. If she had forgotten. A lot of her memory felt gone, missing. It had been missing for such a long time, the bits and pieces like fading embers. A picture of her parents, a house, a fire, a blur, and then punching a man's face and taking his wallet. It didn't add up, but she didn't have the time to piece it together. She didn't have time to care when trying to survive.

Now, here he was, a piece of her past. He was the blur, perhaps, and it frightened her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Half my life is a mystery."

He didn't react the way he should. His face remained stoic, his stance the same. His eyes remained straight and blank, as if he was shielding all that he was feeling to protect himself. She wondered if it was the mako, or if this was only him. If he gave a little away, a potential opening to his thoughts, maybe this would be easier.

"I'm sorry, too."

She bit her lip. "Were we friends?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I was your neighbor. We didn't…really," he trailed, scratched his neck. She watched him closely. This made him uncomfortable.

"We weren't friends."

"No. Your family didn't like me."

"Why?"

"I wasn't…the best kid."

She smiled a little. "A bully?"

He looked at her. "Only because everyone else was."

"So my family didn't like any of the kids."

"Not particularly."

She thought a little while. "Did I ever hang out with any one?"

"Yeah," he said. "Some guys, some girls. Your parents never liked the boys, but you'd sneak out."

"I would?"

"When you'd want to."

At least some things didn't surprise her. It was heartening.

"Would I ever sneak out to see you?"

He turned his head away from her.

"Once."

"Only once?"

He nodded, still diverting his eyes, and she knew that something important happened. She had a feeling. She could feel the bud of it, trying to blossom in her memory.

She hesitated, thinking better about asking.

"How do you feel?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Fine. You?"

"I'm better," she said. "I'm not tired anymore. I feel…lighter." She paused. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm alright, Tifa."

He said her name in such a familiar way that it made her shift on the cot.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me that you're okay. Use your power."

"Tifa – "

"Please."

He sighed, then closed his eyes. He started to shine, the mako concentrating in an outline. It wasn't green anymore, but a deep cerulean. It surged and it shimmered out until it touched her, but the sensations were very light and very muted. Images would emerge in spurts inside her mind, but they didn't make her restless or jittery. They made her calm and serene.

She stood up quietly and stopped in front of him. The bench was low, so she kneeled, her head coming up to his chest. The tranquility washed over her like a tidal wave, and it cancelled out her nervousness of being so near him.

"Open your eyes," she whispered. In his surprise, he did. At her proximity, he backed up into the bars, looking down at her with widened eyes. They were very pretty eyes, no matter how manufactured – the same blue as his mist.

"You shouldn't be…this close," he said.

He didn't seem as malicious as before, in the alley. He wouldn't have fangs, he wouldn't strangle her or snap her in two. He would only sit there, as far away as he could, and he would do nothing.

She reached out to touch his cheek. He jerked away.

"It's alright," she smiled, feeling the skin of his face under her fingers. His pupils started to dilate.

"Stop – "

He was feeling impossible desperations, too, she realized. As high as his concentration was, he must have felt their nagging even when he didn't provoke his power. She wondered what they could be, with the way he was tensing, his jaw fighting itself. He seemed about to snap, and she wanted to know.

She wanted to know what he was thinking. What the scenes were, floating behind his eyes. Those personal scenes, those inner most secrets, those things she couldn't steal. He was a tormented being, and he was finally showing it, with his face more open than she'd witnessed. Who was he? Who could he possibly be?

She wanted to know what happened to her. She wanted to know who she was, and did this man truly have that information, tucked away in the deep recesses of his mind?

Her fingers grazed his lips. His eyes slit.

Suddenly, he was kissing her. His hands were on the sides of her face, holding her in place. He was making sure she wouldn't leave him – she could feel it in his palms. They were like chains across her cheeks, cold and solid like all the metal he wore. His breath tasted artificial and engineered, but she could make out the hint of something else, like something he used to be. It was still persevering, fighting its way into her mouth. She gasped a little, and she felt his tongue invade, touch her in places she'd never been touched. She'd never had a first kiss, but this was warm and passionate, and she felt the heat underneath his skin. It was pleasant, and soothing and calming, and she couldn't tell if it was the mako working or if it was solely him.

She reached up and touched the back of his neck, felt the fine hair on his nape.

And that's when she saw it.

She saw all the memories.


	3. iii.

"You're Cloud, right?"

He was leaning his back against the well, hands in his pockets. His shoulders were lax, as sedated as they could be as he stared up at the moon. His eyes flicked over to her carelessly, and he remained quiet, as if the question was too trivial to warrant an answer.

Perhaps it was a silly question. Nibelheim was a small country town. Everyone knew everybody else, even if they weren't acquainted. And they weren't acquainted, but she'd heard stories, made an ice pack for her friend who'd gotten a black eye from the boy in front of her, and she still couldn't fathom how. He wasn't very intimidating, besides the eyes and his sharp face. He hadn't fleshed out his muscles like the other boys. He was skinny and small, but he was a few inches taller than she was, and that in itself made him all the more condescending.

"Or, I mean, I know you're Cloud," she amended, brushing at her shirt. "I've just never talked to you."

"Then why are you talking to me, now?"

She knew he didn't have many friends, if any at all. She never saw him with a group, never saw him hanging out with anyone outside of classes. He was the shadow that hid himself where he couldn't be found, and he was perfectly content that way. If he could be called the town outcast, it would only be because he'd put himself in that position.

Tifa couldn't understand why.

"Because I never see you talk to anyone."

"Maybe that's because I don't want to."

Tifa placed a hand on her hip, squinting up at him.

"I think you're lying."

He blinked at her, shrugging his shoulders and pushing off the wooden planks with his foot. "Whatever you say."

As if it ended the conversation, he started to walk away. Tifa huffed, and called out, "You punched my friend, you know."

He stopped his stride reluctantly, turning to glance at her. "Who?"

"Mikey," she said, glaring at the side of his face. "His eye was shut for a week."

She could see the barest hint of a smile. "Good."

She felt her back bristle. "He didn't do anything to you!"

He shrugged again. "You should rethink your choices in friends."

He reached his porch in a few more strides and shut himself into his house. Tifa stared in confusion and frustration, wishing she could shout a scathing remark to his closed door.

No wonder he didn't have any friends.

From then on, she'd see him at the well more often. He'd walk outside, still alone, but less confined and isolated. She'd always thought he'd lock himself inside his house after school, find things to do in the work shed behind his house in his backyard.

She couldn't help but be curious. Mikey and Vick and Shane all told her stories about him. How he'd avoid everyone on the playground, and how he'd hide behind the school and smoked and ate beetles and had an illicit affair with one of their teachers. They said all kinds of fanciful things, ridiculous things, and they'd laugh and joke and she was ashamed of it later, when she laughed, too.

She'd glance out her bedroom window sometimes, watch him almost sneak out of the front door of his house, and go out for afternoon walks.

That's when she decided to follow him. It was a bad idea. She felt it curl up inside her stomach like a spiked chain, keeping her on a leash to her desk, but it was too interesting for her to pass up.

She ended up stumbling a good distance behind him, making sure there was a close outcrop of shelter nearby at all times. He never looked back, not when she cracked a leaf under her shoe or hit a small rock across the ground.

When he crossed the bridge to the mountain, she couldn't do it. She watched him walk across the narrow, rickety boards, loosely connected, acting with the intent to snap and break and kill the person who dared walk their way over.

He kept his hands in his pockets. His body didn't flinch once.

And maybe he was so laid-back and calm because he didn't care about a thing. She wished she could be that way, that relaxed and tranquil, at peace with the world. Unafraid and undaunted.

Tifa waited for a long while, just to see if he'd come back. If he'd make a round across the mountain and return. She never heard a monster growl, like all the legends said. She didn't feel an earthquake or a rumble. But fifteen minutes turned to forty-five and Tifa finally relented.

She got up, brushed herself off, and went home. For the next week, when she'd see him leave his house, she'd get up and follow behind. He always went to the same place.

* * *

"Stop following me."

He startled her at lunch. He was holding his tray and glaring down at her. He didn't seem to notice her friends, jumping and turning to give him a glare of their own.

"I wasn't following you," she spluttered.

"Yes, you were," he said angrily. He leaned in. "Stop."

She almost shuddered, but he turned left as abruptly as he came.

"What was that all about?" Vick asked, watching Cloud's retreating form.

"No clue," she lied, trying with immense difficulty to finish her sandwich.

She eyed him taking a seat at a faraway table, shoulders still tensed up in knots.

It was then she decided, beyond reasonable doubt, beyond all the screaming nags inside her that told her to stay away from him. She'd be his friend. She'd keep following, much more careful than before. She'd miss all the eggshells he'd leave in his wake.

Everyone needed a friend, after all, even if they didn't want one.

* * *

She knocked on his door. She knew he was still there, because she hadn't seen him leave. It still, however, took several knocks to get him to answer the door.

He peered out, glancing down at her. She gave him a smile and held out her basket.

"I made cupcakes."

He stared at her oddly, looking toward the cloth concealing the treats from his view.

"Cupcakes?"

"Like a peace offering," she said, seeing the expression on his face. "You know, for following you." She blushed.

He opened the door a little wider, leaning his elbow against it. His eyes were on her face, examining and wary, before he reached out and took the basket from her.

"Uh, thanks."

She blushed again, then shook her head quickly. "It's the least I could do."

"You didn't have to do anything."

She looked up to him skeptically. "Yes I did."

He scratched the back of his head, then said, "Why did you follow me, anyway?"

She felt incredibly reticent, under his stare and his questions. So up close and personal was different in the severe daylight. "I don't know. I was curious."

"About what?" he said.

"Where you were going."

"Why?"

She puffed a little sigh, hugging at her sides. "Does it really matter?"

His glance turned contemplative. "Guess not," he answered, shrugging against the frame.

Tifa felt a bit more at ease, not having to answer the question straight out to him, so soon. What would she say?

_Let's be friends. I want you to take me across the bridge and explore and have fun and teach me how to be all calm and cool, like you._

She bit her lip and stared at him staring at the basket. That wouldn't do at all. He'd slam the door on her face. He would say something indifferent or mean.

A voice from inside the house broke their silence. It sounded like a woman—his mom. He shifted, his head looking behind him, then toward Tifa.

"Gotta go," he said in a farewell.

Tifa nodded, stepping back and giving him a small wave. "Bye, Cloud."

* * *

A few days passed before Tifa built up the nerve to sit by Cloud at lunch. She expected him to back away, look at her and stand to take his leave.

"Hi," she said.

Instead of standing immediately, Cloud looked shocked. His jaw clenched in mid-chew.

"Can I sit here?"

He glanced over to the table she usually took, seeing her friends with faces as confused as he seemed to be. Tifa knew Shane and the guys wouldn't take this lightly. They'd ask her questions later, if not now, but she figured it would be easier to be confronted by them instead of trying to explain. They wouldn't understand, anyway.

"Sit with your friends, Tifa."

She'd never heard him say her name before. Her hair stood on end, and she swallowed and said, "You're my friend, too."

He scoffed a laugh. It was without humor. "No, I'm not."

"You could be."

"No, I couldn't."

The bluntness of his answer surprised her out of one of her own.

He stood up and reached for his tray, throwing the remains in the trash, and walked out of the lunch room.

As expected, she was cornered after school was over.

Shane started first, being the unofficial, self-proclaimed leader of the small group. "What was up with today?"

Tifa crossed her arms, giving him a defensive glare. "Nothing. I can sit where I want, can't I?"

"Yeah, Teef, but you could have at least let us know…"

"And let you talk me out of it? I didn't want that."

Shane's face fell. "Tifa…"

"We just don't want you to get hurt," Mikey spoke up, giving her a small quirk of a smile. "I mean, that guy can be a bastard."

"None of us have great impressions from him," Vick mumbled. "He's got a bone to pick with us, from all the hell he puts us through."

"Ever watched what happens in dodgeball?" Mikey said, giving her a serious stare. "It's always war in there."

"We just get concerned," Shane said, lightly poking her in the shoulder. "You're pretty tough, but you're not that tough."

Tifa half-smiled at them. It reminded her why she liked them so much, though it twisted her stomach with guilt. They were easy to talk to. They were all her best friends. It'd been like that for the longest time, and yet it was hard for her. Hard for her to tell them those small, silly, festering things best friends tell each other. The things that weighed on her heart. Because, despite everything, she _liked_ Cloud Strife. She liked his hair and his eyes and his quiet demeanor. She liked that he was a loner. She liked that he was unapologetically himself.

She gave them a small shrug after a while, looking toward the ground.

"It's just…everyone deserves a friend every once in a while, don't they?"

Vick smiled, gave half a shrug. Mikey stuck his tongue out. Shane sighed.

"Not if they don't want any," Shane said, shaking his head. "Think about it. If you wanted another friend, what would you do, Teef? Go up and talk to them, right?"

Tifa frowned. "But not everybody does that. Sometimes, people can have a hard time talking to others, can't they?"

"Having a hard time and purposely avoiding are two different things, Tifa," Mikey answered, rolling his eyes. "If he wanted to be friends with any of us at school, he wouldn't lash out with insults every other day. Or he wouldn't _avoid_ us."

"You can be pretty mean, too, Mikey," Tifa said, giving him a look. "He punched you because you called him a… a uh…" Tifa flushed. "A really bad thing, and it was uncalled for."

"Yeah, well he was—he was looking at you, like, staring at you, and it was revolting. I didn't—none of us—liked it." Mikey grimaced, crossing his arms and balling his hands. "I was the only one to do anything about it."

Tifa blinked. "You…none of you guys ever told me this."

All of the boys shifted uncomfortably, evading each other's eyes.

"It wasn't important at the time," Vick answered slowly.

"Overprotective, is all," Shane said, scratching his head.

Tifa glanced at all of them, one by one. She didn't know what to say or do. There wasn't a ledge she could grasp. "Um…look," she started, uncertain. "I know you guys want to protect me, but sometimes, I think, it's best if you let me do things that I want to do. Even if you think it's dangerous. Whatever it is. Okay?"

"But Teef—" Vick started, face contorted in confliction.

"But nothing," she said, the feeling of decisiveness washing over her. She grinned. "I take Tae-Kwon-Do lessons, you know." She swooped in between them, weaving her way to the dirt path. They followed after her.

"Besides," she said, the hint of her teasing underlying her words. "All of you are starting to sound like my _dad_."

Mikey was indignant. Vick started choking. Shane grappled her neck in a headlock and rubbed vigorously at her scalp with his knuckles.

"You are definitely going to take that back," Shane promised, keeping up his torture. Tifa couldn't stop laughing.

"Never," she breathed out, slipping out of his grasp and darting down the street.

"Hey, come back!" Shane shouted, chasing after her. Vick and Mikey followed close behind.

They were never able to catch her.

* * *

After that day, she made a routine. Every other day, she'd sit by Cloud, whether or not he'd decide to leave or stay. The other days, she'd sit by her old friends. The tension between the parties seemed to settle once this was established, though she'd be caught in between occasional glares.

Cloud would usually leave after a few minutes passed. She'd greet him with a smile or two, a glance from him, and then he'd stand up and leave her.

But some days, he'd be unpredictable. He'd ask her a question—how her day was, how her family was, how she did on a test. He never smiled at her, never let his eye contact linger for more than was polite. He wouldn't joke, but he'd include bites of dry sarcasm in his short conversation. She remembered that the most about him. She remembered not understanding him at times—or taking him seriously, when he wasn't being serious at all.

And she knew that she remembered this the most because her absolute confusion in how to take his words made him smile at her. It was short and close-lipped, mimicking his words, but it was this easy type of eager smile, as if he'd been holding it back.

It was such a nice change of pace, and Tifa had been so sure he'd stay sitting.

But he stood up after that, and he left.

* * *

Cloud still visited the mountain, across the breaking bridge. Tifa would 'accidentally' bump into him on his way when she'd get out of her karate lessons.

"Where you headed?" she asked.

"Mt. Nibel."

"Oh," she said. "Isn't that kind of dangerous?"

He gave a shrug. "Not really. There's not much up there."

Her eyes widened. "What's up there?"

He glanced at her for a second, then looked up to the bridge. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

Her feet begged to take a step back, but she held her ground.

"I don't think…I don't think I can."

"You can. You just don't want to."

"But I do want to!" she shouted, precautious and rebellious emotions mixing up inside her. "I just…I don't know. The bridge will fall any day now…"

"It holds up fine."

She opened her mouth, but she hesitated. "I…um…"

"Suit yourself," he answered, taking his leave. She watched in jarring silence as he easily made his way across, amongst the squeaks of the string and shrills of the wind. When he got to the landing, he turned to her.

"I told you."

She took a step in front of her, gathering her courage in front of the bridge. She gave it a closer glance, to either assure her fears or dismiss them, she didn't know. She swallowed as she looked down, seeing the ragged rocks point up to her like knives.

"You gonna come?"

She glanced up at him. If only he knew how much she wanted to meet him, to just let herself slip beside him and see what it was like.

She sighed. "Maybe…some other time."

She hoped he was as disappointed in her as she was herself, to give her some kind of catalyst to wash away the fear faster. But his face gave nothing away, and she couldn't read it closely when he was so far.

"I guess I'll see you later, then."

He turned on the path, and he was gone.

* * *

"Shane?" Tifa asked one day, when they were sitting against the well. It was just them, today.

"Hm?"

"Have you ever wondered…what Mt. Nibel was like?"

He glanced over to her with raised eyebrows. "Sometimes, yeah." He looked at her more closely. "Why?"

"I was just thinking…" She bit her lip. "If…well, I think we should go. We've never been, all this time."

"It's always been off limits…" he said, before a grin came upon his face. "Right now?"

She went to swallow, but her mouth was dry. "Yes."

He stood up, dusting off his shorts, and grabbed her hand, pulling her up with him. He didn't let go of it as they raced across town.

And then there they were, looking at the bridge. Tifa hated it but wished she could love it. It would make it easier if she did.

Shane huffed out a breath. "Are you ready for this?"

 _No._ "Yeah," she breathed out. "Let's not think about it."

He nodded. "Agreed."

They stared at it for a second longer before Tifa let go of his hand and ran as fast as she could go. She heard Shane's boots right behind her. It was a comforting sound, and she concentrated on it instead of the creaks of the wood, and the ridiculous swaying pushing up at her feet.

And then she was there. On the surface of the rock of Mt. Nibel.

She breathed heavily, then laughed, and laughed and laughed some more.

She turned around and threw her arms around Shane, wrapping them tighter and tighter until they were vices.

"Thanks, Shane."

He gave a long hesitation before his arms cradled her, much looser than hers. "We just crossed a bridge, Teef."

"I know, but I was always too scared to get across. This is huge!"

She looked over his shoulder and saw the pathway that Cloud always took, barely worn down from his footsteps alone.

She wondered what it would be like, to be hugging him instead. To cross the bridge with him on the other side.

* * *

"I did it," she told him, as soon as she could. "I crossed the bridge, and it was great."

Cloud looked surprised. "When?"

"Over the weekend with Shane. It was amazing! We walked up the path you made and we almost made it to the top, except it was getting late and dark and we didn't think we'd be able to make it back to see if we went all the way. But I'm going to start going more, look around. It'll be so fun. I've always wanted to," she said, gushing. "I've always wondered what it was that you saw out there."

She followed his gaze to the table with her guys. "It was so mysterious. Something so new," she trailed off, starting to feel as if it didn't matter. He wasn't interested, and it always seemed to her that it was a difficult task to keep his attention. She thought the longer he stayed sitting, the more at ease he was with her. Perhaps that was only a fanciful notion.

She followed his gaze. She couldn't figure out why they were all glaring, why Cloud's face was a storm, and Shane's and Mikey's and Vick's were all mixed together in a heated death match, all trying to one up each other for the fiercest look.

"Stay on the path, okay?" Cloud said as he stood up. "Nothing off of it. You'll get lost or hurt or both."

"But…" she tried, as she started watching him turn. She had the urge to keep him there, like she always did, but it was magnified more than it had been. "But you found your way. What makes you think I can't find mine?"

He stopped and glanced over to her. "It's not a big mountain, but it can get confusing. Trust me."

She watched him walk out the door before she rushed after him.

"Wait, Cloud!"

She saw his back go rigid. "Tifa—"

"Listen," she began, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He flinched, and she immediately took away her hand. "Listen," she said more softly. "I was thinking maybe…Maybe you could show me around out there." She shrugged. "Just…once. I promise I won't bug you about it."

She held her breath as his face changed. She didn't know what it changed from or what the new expression meant, but she prayed he'd give an affirmative.

"…I don't think—" he started, and her face screwed up with determination.

"No," she said firmly, putting her hands on her hips. "I went with Shane. We're taking Mikey and Vick tomorrow. But…" she said, hesitating, then stopping. She took a breath. "I always wondered if…if…" She shook her head. "You know the way around better than all of us. Just. Please. Just one time."

He seemed to struggle with his words, more so than in a long while. "One time."

She felt a weight lift off her. She gave him the largest grin she could muster, trying to fend off the conflicted look in his eyes.

"Thank you so much, Cloud."

She rose up to kiss him on the cheek, then she scurried away, hoping that he wouldn't think it was a mistake.

The blush remained on her face the rest of the day.

* * *

They decided to meet on a Saturday afternoon. She told her father she was hanging out with Sara, who lived across town from her, just in case. She wanted to tell Mikey and Shane and Vick, but they had a hard enough time with her at lunch with Cloud. She didn't think they'd take it lightly if she told them she was going to Mt. Nibel with Cloud alone. It wasn't as if she didn't trust them, but she knew one of them might crack and leak it to her father, and if that came to pass, she probably wouldn't ever see much of Cloud again. Besides, she told herself. It was a onetime thing. Why ruin it by worrying others?

He was already at the bridge when she arrived, sitting on a boulder surrounding the ledge. When he looked up, his face gave way to brief surprise.

Tifa crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Did you think I wasn't gonna show?"

He slid off the boulder, giving her a look before answering honestly. "No."

She frowned a little at his lack of faith in her. "Well, I'm here now."

He nodded, placing his hands in his pockets. "Let's go."

He started a lazy walk across the bridge, and Tifa forced her pace to match his, wanting for all the world to go faster. She sighed, and said, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You're so calm. I mean, I want to run right now, but you act like you don't care how long it takes to get over." She paused. "I think you're like that in everything you do. Like school and when I see you walking. You always have this slow stride, like you're relaxed and peaceful. And sometimes when we play sports, in PE, you're always so patient…I swear you always hit the home runs in baseball."

He took his time to answer, and in the short lapse of conversation, Tifa realized all of what she said. She watched him a lot, took unintentional notes in her head. She bit the tip of her tongue, wanting to take it all back, but she wanted to know more than she wanted to keep it all a secret.

In the end, he tilted his head a bit to the side. "Guess I've never had a place where I've really wanted to go."

Tifa squinted at his back. "So you've never had this urge to just…run? Just to run and leave?"

"I have, but where would I end up?" The question sounded rhetorical, as if he'd thought about it many times before. It sounded like a jest. "If I ever went anywhere, it'd have to be for a purpose. Not only because I wanted to. If I did, I'd just come back, then I'd be right where I started."

She messed with her fingers, thinking. "Have you thought about where you're going to go after school?"

"Maybe I'll join the army," he said quickly, as if anticipating her question. "Or maybe I'll go…somewhere far away."

"Like…Wutai?" she smiled.

"I don't know."

"Costa Del Sol?"

He shrugged, and she laughed. "Vick wants to go there, be a beach bum. He wants all the women, I think."

"Probably."

She remained smiling, facing him, and realized she was on solid ground again. She breathed out, her smile growing wider. No matter how many times she crossed the bridge, the same relief washed over her on each trip.

And though this time felt like the first, she didn't rush over to him and give him a hug. She never held his hand on the way, and, besides, he was already walking up the path, hands still secured in his jean pockets.

They didn't veer off the pathway much, Tifa now accustomed to watching the shrubs and bushes melt into a lighter brown sediment, soft and bouncy, growing into small rocks, into larger and larger ones until they became boulders and cliffs. It was easily traversable, with juts and ledges lingering beside them.

When they did trudge off the path, Cloud turning right when they should have kept left, Tifa spoke up.

"It's something I found recently," he said in answer.

There were more challenging ledges on the right side, sharp corners of rocks rounding each curve. Tifa scraped her leg on one of them, but it wasn't any worse than the cuts and bruises she'd gotten on her visits before.

They made it to a small landing, where the rocks turned into small, mutated steps. They led to a slanted ledge, and Cloud reached to it and pulled himself up to the landing. Tifa followed Cloud's lead, sidling up beside him.

"Over there," he said, tilting his head.

She peeked her head over the edge, glancing down.

The green was searing, bright and luminescent even through the fading daylight. It was a tiny lake – a puddle, not more than a few feet deep from the angle. A ribbon stream was leading into it from two different pathways, the cracks in the ground deep enough to let the life crawl out.

"Is that the Lifestream?" she asked, the awe littering her voice.

"Yeah," he said. "It comes from the middle of the mountain, underneath the outcrop over there. See?"

He pointed to the left, toward a dark cavern leading inside a break between the rocks. She could see green spilling out from the circle, appearing from the cavern, and dark blue mako crystals sitting by the entrance.

"You think we could find the way inside the mountain?"

He shrugged. "I've never tried. I went inside before, but it's too dark to see anything."

"Still…" she said, glancing toward the puddle again. "I wonder what happened to make the Lifestream rise out of the ground like that…"

"I dunno," he said. "But it's dangerous. You know that, right?"

"Well, I know that it can cause comas. And it drains you. Takes away your soul if you take in too much."

"Yeah."

"Do you think that's true? Instead of giving life, it…takes it away?"

"I've never seen a person with Lifestream inside them," he answered. "But it's been tested. Remember what Mrs. Jacobs taught us?"

She thought back to the lesson, the pictures, people who abused it, and the pictures of the SOLDIERs. The people who went through genetic mutations to become elite, a part of the authorities of Shinra.

"Of course, but… I wonder if there's more to it than that."

"It can make people strong," he said, eyes flicking back down to the puddle. "The right people."

"That's…I don't know. It's a scary thing to think about."

They stayed up there for a while, taking in the sight once more, before he sat up and looked at the sky.

"I think we should head back."

She mimicked him, sitting up as well. "I guess we should."

He remained sitting for a few seconds, before he said, "Tifa?"

"Yeah?"

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "Thanks. For coming up here."

She beamed at him. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"I just…" he trailed, evading her eyes. He shook his head, and he went to stand. Tifa reached out before he could, grabbing his wrist.

"You just what?"

"Nothing."

"No, really," she said. "What?"

He looked at her hand on his wrist. Then he looked up to her. His eyes held a type of determination in them, molding into small bullets.

"No one ever… I mean, making friends is hard for me, and…you're...I think I..." he trails, struggling, and shook his head. "Never mind. It's nothing. Let's go."

Tifa didn't want to. She didn't know why she held onto his wrist so tightly. Why she looked so intently into his eyes to see past the molding. His face was very close, to where she saw the light red flush growing on his face. He was such a mysterious boy, she thought. Mysterious and mean and guarded and lonely, but so thoughtful and calm. Cold and sad and sitting beside her. Looking at her uncertainly. His eyes widened, gaze trailing down to look at her lips.

"Not yet," she whispered. Then she leaned over and kissed him, reaching around with her other hand, grazing the small tufts of hair on the back of his neck.

And then came the scream, all the way from town.


	4. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I feel like this story has a lot of potential to be continued further. Sixteen year old me had some good ideas for this, but they ended with this chapter, and while I would love to continue this, (and I still might! I never say never) I'm going to give it an ending, for now. Who knows? I might come back to this, but I despised leaving it unfinished on my computer after all these years. Thank you to everyone who came to read this and who left reviews/comments/critiques. I hope you enjoyed this little piece. I adore and appreciate everyone of you!

Tifa opened her eyes, the chill creeping into her chest, pumping out to her arms and legs. She broke away from Cloud, still inside her cell, fingers digging into the flesh of his back. Their faces were only a few inches apart, but as she looked at him, she felt the gnawing need to keep kissing him and not let him go. If she did, he might smell like smoke and start to burn, just like everyone else.

His eyes were still glowing, still a deep cerulean, and it would have been such a pretty color had it not signified what he had done to himself. How long would he survive? Were the mutations enough to sustain him, or was there a limit to how much mako he could handle?

Though his eyes remained something close to death, the emotion held inside them was not.

Pupils dilated and breathing ragged, Cloud didn't give off any intention of letting her go either. His thumbs pressed into her, making her legs squeeze his sides. She grasped the sides of his face, pressing hard for another kiss.

He had picked her up sometime between when they started and now, sitting on the edge of her bed, with her twined around his waist and sitting in his lap. He shifted, facing the mattress, and gently falling backward and pressing her into the springs. She sighed into his mouth, and he let out a growl. His fingers touched the skin on her stomach, curling under her prison shirt. It made her sigh again.

His hands scrambled further up her shirt, scraping blunt nails across her ribs. Her mind went numb from the feeling.

"Tifa…" he said, voice gruff. "You can't...let me.." His voice was straining, as if he could hardly speak through the mako.

"Cloud…" she trailed, kissing his neck.

"You can't..." he growled. "I won't be able to stop."

 _Oh,_ but she didn't want him to stop. The emotions were too high. She hadn't seen him in so long...subconsciously, she thought he'd died. Everyone was gone.

And now, suddenly, so suddenly, everyone wasn't. He was with her. He was home.

"I don't want you to."

His words were strangled. "No...no, you don't. You don't understand. You don't—"

"I remember."

He opened his eyes and stared at her, his arms becoming a little shaky.

"What?"

"I remember you."

He forced himself to sit up, eyes still glowing, but he seemed to be trying to control it, rubbing his face roughly with his hands.

"What do you remember?"

"Everything," she answered breathy, missing his warmth. She sat up, her knee touching his leg.

He blinked at the ground, scratching his eyes.

"Good...that's good."

She looked at him. "You lied."

"What?"

"About being friends. We were friends."

He smiled humorlessly. "No, we weren't."

"But we..." she stuttered. "You showed me the mountain. I kissed you."

"Tifa, it didn't..." he said, struggling. "You loved everyone, even if they didn't deserve it."

"Are you saying you didn't deserve it?"

"A lot of people didn't deserve it. Your friends didn't—"

"You were jealous of them because they were my friends."

"And I wanted to be your friend?"

She stilled. "No...you didn't."

He was silent as he stared at the ground, jaw muscles jutting on the side of his face.

"Why didn't you?" she asked.

He breathed a laugh. "Your parents wouldn't let me near you. Your friends wouldn't either, until you put your foot down. And if I ever got close to you," he said, voice lowering to a whisper. "If I ever got close to you, what do you think would happen?"

She thumbed at her pants, finding a loose thread. "We wouldn't be able to be together."

"There were so many prospects for you, Tifa. I wasn't social, I was confused and didn't know what I wanted, and I wasn't any match for most of the guys in Nibelheim."

She glanced at his arm.

"So you became a SOLDIER to prove that you could be good enough?"

She couldn't keep the incredulous tremor out of her voice.

He looked at her, hearing her voice. He almost seemed apologetic. "You don't know what it felt like, having you come up and talk to me, to spend time with me just because you wanted to. We were graduating soon, and suddenly you were just...there."

"I was always there," she said, as quietly as he, scooting closer. "But it's okay now. You became…what you wanted to become. You survived. I survived. And somehow, you found me."

"Yeah..." he said. He grabbed her waist tentatively and kept her close. "Yeah."

Tifa wrapped her arms around him, breathing out deeply.

"I didn't believe it at first, when they started trying to identify you."

"Someone caught me stealing?"

"They wouldn't see you, not all of you," he said. "Just your hair or your eyes. Never all of your face. Then King Kisaragi sent us that letter, and I knew I had to find you first."

"Why? So you could save me?"

He smiled then, slightly and sheepishly. "Yes. To protect you. I always hoped you were right, about there being more to the Lifestream. I hoped it didn't suck your soul away, and it didn't. Some of your memory, but not much more. It even helped you survive."

She touched his chest.

"What about you, Cloud?"

"I'll be fine."

"No, you're not," she said forcefully. "What if something awful happens? What if the mutation isn't enough? What if—"

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted.

But she would, and she knew he knew it. So she raised her head and kissed him, like before, with all of the warmth she felt for him. For that mysterious, cold, mean, guarded, confused, thoughtful boy. For the man he wanted to become. And who he was, now—who was he?

Someone who loved her, whoever she was, she thought, as he kissed her back.

* * *

When she woke up, he had left without any trace of himself except for the scent of him lingering on her skin. She inhaled her pillow and smelled him there, too. It was nice, feeling him so close, having comfort from him though he was gone.

He left the barred door unlocked again, as he said he would.

 _Leave in the morning,_ he said. _The guards change shift at 7 am. There's a five minute window for you to sneak through the hallways. I'll leave the back door open. And once you get out—_

Find Yuffie and run, she thought. Straightforward and simple. Tell her Godo had sent scouts to look for her, and it wouldn't be long until they were found. Their only option would be to run unless Yuffie was persuaded to go back home, but Tifa wasn't sure. Would Yuffie ever allow it?

She held her breath the entire way out of the jail. She skittered through alleyways and backroads, stomach on edge, the chill of getting caught lingering in the back of her mind. She made her way to the safehouse, praying fervently that Yuffie would be coiled up in the bed, safe and uncaring that Tifa had left her.

"Yuffie," Tifa cried, her voice strangled when the ninja star landed, imbedded in the brick beside her head. She jerked, her knees nearly giving way from relief.

"Tifa!" Yuffie exclaimed, stepping out from her hiding spot in the shadowed corner of the room. She ran at her, bowling them both into the wall.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Tifa spluttered, hugging Yuffie with all her might. She realized she was shaking.

"You're an idiot, and I hate you," Yuffie said back, breathless. "I tried surveillance, I tried to figure out the best way to get to you and… How dare you get caught like that."

"Oh, Yuffie. I know," she said, almost laughing. "But I'm here, now."

Yuffie shook her head. "How did you escape?"

Their grip on each other loosened, and Tifa took a step back, holding Yuffie's shoulders.

"A friend helped me."

"A friend?" Yuffie asked, bewildered. "Tifa, we don't have any friends."

"I didn't think we did. He was…from my past, a long time ago."

Yuffie only raised a curious brow. "Your past? Okay, spill."

Even after everything, Tifa found every pore of her body hesitating.

"There isn't anything to—"

"You didn't put me through three weeks of constant worry for _nothing,_ Tifa. It's time you fess up."

Tifa took a deep breath. She glanced at the far wall of the room. It was a stuffy and small place, reminiscent of her jail cell with a small cot stuffed in the corner, a metal dresser, dismantled pieces of chairs and a beaten up furnace. The one window to their right was a rectangle with two panels of glass, grimy and splattered with smog and dust.

"Okay…okay," she said softly. She gestured to the cot. "Let's sit. I'll tell you everything I remember."

Tifa told her. She told her about Cloud and her friendships, how she desperately wanted to be close to him, and how he would push her away. She told her about kissing him on the mountain, in the view of the small pond of mako, like the palm of earth holding the remnants of its life that escaped from beneath the surface. She told her about how Shinra stormed into the town, wanting to capitalize on the newly found pocket of free flowing Lifestream. The rage that ensued between the village and the Shinra troops, who began forcing families out of their homes. It wasn't safe to be so near the Lifestream in such concentrations, they had said. Who knew how long it had surfaced? Who knew how contaminated the village already was? 

Tifa still wasn't sure how the fire started. Either it was started between civilians and the troopers, or instigated by the troopers to enforce cooperation. In the end, she and Cloud fought against the men who found them on their rock, and Tifa slipped and fell into the pool of the Lifestream below. She remembered Cloud's scream. It was a torturous thing, and something Tifa wished she didn't have to remember.

She fought the tide of it. It was thick and viscous, pulling her under the more she fought against it. Then she felt hands on her arms, and she was losing consciousness, sucking in mouthfuls of the earth, gasping, suffocating, dying—and then...

She woke up to nothing. Ash and smoke clouded the sky. She didn't know who she was or where she'd been. She was afraid of the men in the burning village, as they hauled her into a van and sent her to a lab in Midgar. They asked her questions, took her through tests. She escaped because of her fear, because of how they looked at her. Survival had burned within her, and she learned, eventually, it was from the mako. She lived with flashes of memory but little else. She found herself crying occasionally, at rushes of emotion that would fill her or distant visions of her parents that would come upon her without warning. Eventually, those faded, too.

Yuffe looked ponderous and devastated. "Oh, Tifa. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No, please. Don't be. I'm here, now. It all...worked out, in the end."

They were quiet for a while, and Tifa tried to suppress the irksome vulnerability. It was different, now. A different heaviness, with the memories fresh, like coats of paint on the inside of her skull still trying to dry.

"So..." Yuffie began after a few minutes. "Cloud...he loved you. He loved you and he thought you died, so he became…"

Tifa nodded.

Yuffie crossed her arms. "He definitely could have done a better job when he was a kid."

Tifa laughs a little. "Yuffie, please."

"I'm serious!"

"Speaking of love, Godo—"

"Does _not_ ," Yuffie interrupted, cutting her arms through the air. "Don't even start. I don't care if he's trying to find me. I don't."

"He does."

"He doesn't!"

"He's your father."

"And he needs to learn that he will never be able to control me," Yuffie finished. "Let them follow me. They won't kill me. There's nothing they can do except try to catch me."

Tifa swallowed. She's not sure if she could voice the next thing on her mind. "Yuffie…"

"Honestly, Tifa. I know what I'm doing. Godo can go to hell. He doesn't know—"

Something in Tifa's face must give her away. Yuffie stopped her ranting, inhaling a sharp intake of breath. "Oh. Tifa. No. There is no _way_ he would do that to you. To us."

"He already threatened it, Yuffie. If they catch me again, they'll use me to get to you."

Yuffie's eyes glinted like steel. "If they think they can come in here and take you without a fight, they have got another thing coming."

Tifa smiled sadly. She shook her head. "It isn't that simple, Yuffie. I can't protect you. I thought I could, but they found me so easily. They captured me so easily. I don't think we're strong enough to outrun them."

Yuffie scoffed loudly, anger written all over her face. "Tifa! Are you even hearing yourself? What did they do to you in there to make you think that? What happened to us against the world? What happened to not giving a fuck about authority and consequences? What happened?"

Tifa stared at Yuffie, her heart filling up with love and with uncertainty. With the buffer of mako gone, the feeling of invincibility was waning. She could now see how scary it all was—any wrong move, any reckless misstep like the one she had made could mean the end of both of them. The end of Yuffie and her freedom, and the end of Tifa and her life.

"It made me realize how much you mean to me, Yuffie," she stated, her throat tight. "I can't lose you."

She reached into her pocket, the offending gift lazily resting on the joints of her fingers.

"It was a stupid birthday gift," Tifa said. "Cloud caught me stealing this from an outside vendor. That's how this all started. Because I cared about you."

Yuffie blinked, looking at the bracelet. She reached out and gently took it from Tifa's grasp, bringing it to her face for inspection.

"Tifa…" she said, quietly, uncharacteristically soft. "This was the one I wanted."

"I know."

"Tifa," she whined, and Tifa realized she didn't know what else to say.

"You knew better!" Yuffie finally shouted. "This," she emphasized, shaking the bracelet. "This isn't worth shit. Why did you steal it?"

Tifa wanted to laugh, but she's closer to crying instead. "I don't know, Yuffie. I don't know."

Yuffie garbled a few other words, incoherently, before scooting toward Tifa and hugging her again. "I thought I was the idiot."

Tifa laughed into her neck. "Oh, Yuffie. What do we do, now?"

She made a disgruntled noise. "I know what _I_ should do. I should go home. Ugh! If I go home, this will all end, and you'd be saved," Yuffie said. She ran a hand through her short hair. "Ugh! Screw Godo. Screw him. I hate him. He only wants me back by my eighteenth birthday so I can be presented at the Coming-of-Age Ceremony. He wants me to be married and rule the kingdom. Screw him."

Tifa shook her head. "Then tell him that. Write him a letter. Tell him you won't come back unless you can rule how you want."

"Easier said than done, Tifa," Yuffie said, dramatically falling back onto the bed.

Tifa shrugged. "Why don't you try? He loves you. He might listen."

Yuffie laughed, braying and loud. "Yeah, sure. Maybe he'd listen if I threaten to commit suicide."

Frowning, Tifa sighed. "Just try. Then we'll see what happens."

There was a lengthy pause between them before Yuffie said, "You really think he'll comply, don't you?"

"If he's ready to kill me to get you back, then I think he'll do just about anything."

Yuffie stared at her, her mouth a grim line. It was a far cry from her usual spunk and her glittering eyes. Tifa hated to see her this way, but she also hated to see her living in the slums of Midgar, wallowing in rot and filth when she was royalty and deserved so much more. Tifa realized how selfish she had been, exploiting Yuffie's friendship because she was lost and lonely.

Yuffie finally wrote the letter, and Tifa was simultaneously proud and regretful, because this was not what Yuffie wanted, and it would never be what she truly wanted. Only when Yuffie received a letter back, with the Wutain stamp of royalty, did she tell Tifa.

"Good news!" she said, waving the letter. "You're coming."

Tifa choked. "What?"

Yuffie grinned. "You're coming. Just think! You, me, and a whole country in our grasp. Your record would be clean. You could do anything, Teef. And!" she said. "Bring your friend."

"Yuffie," Tifa breathed. "I don't...I don't know..."

Yuffie faltered. "What? What do you not know?"

Thousands of reasons assaulted Tifa's mind. _I don't belong there. I've never belonged there. I don't think I could offer anything you wouldn't get elsewhere._

_I don't know how to do anything but steal and lie and hurt people._

_I've lost almost all of my power, and who am I supposed to be without it?_

Tifa bit her tongue, unsure how to relay all of her uncertainties.

"I don't know...how I would be, there, after everything."

Yuffie, bless her, only rolled her eyes, as if all of Tifa's doubts were silly and unwarranted. "Puh-lease. You're one of a kind and if you're not going...well, I would still go, but I would probably die of sadness and I'd miss you. A lot. And I don't know if I could...well... Just...think about it. Okay?""

Tifa almost smiled, but her stomach roiled with anxiety. She sighed.

"Okay. Give me a few days."

* * *

She met Cloud on the outskirts of Sector Seven, near the train station. It was an unobtrusive area with too little places to have much surveillance or importance, the guard anemic and thin. He was not wearing his SOLDIER attire, instead donning the civilian issued clothing all Shinra employees were offered – plain cargo pants, boots, and a plain black shirt. He nearly looked harmless. He almost looked like a nineteen year old.

When he came up to her, her nerve endings felt as though they were fraying again. His power was hidden behind the curtain of his skin, and yet she could feel it like a punch.

"Hi," she greeted.

"Hi," he greeted back. "It's good to see you."

She smiled. "It's good to see you, too." She glanced around. There was no one in their immediate vicinity, but she spoke softly all the same. "I have news."

"What kind of news?" he asked, his voice mimicking hers.

"Yuffie has been in contact with her father. She...bargained with him. She'll go to Wutai if her father pardons all of my crimes."

Cloud's eye widen as he looks at her. "And he agreed?"

Tifa hesitated briefly, still uncertain how to feel. "Yes."

"Is it a trap?"

"I don't think so. But Yuffie...asked me to go with her. She's my family, and I want to be there for her."

Cloud nodded slowly. "When...when are you leaving?"

"The ship will leave on Monday, next week, at dawn."

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Cloud looked at her carefully.

"Wutai is...far," he said.

"Yes."

They stared at one another. Tifa braved the distance between them, touching his forearm with one of her hands. The tension in him began to diminish.

"Would you..." she started. She shook her head. "Would you think about coming, too? Leaving this place? Starting over with me?"

He glanced down at her palm resting on his arm. He relaxed them and took her hand into his. "Shinra doesn't allow SOLDIERs to quit."

Tifa swallowed. "I know. It would be a risk."

"I'm a weapon, now. I'm not even sure if I – " he paused, scoffing. "I'm not even sure I know who I am, anymore."

At that, Tifa smiled easily. "Me either. But we could figure it out together."

"I could hurt you."

She lifted up a shoulder in a shrug. It felt careless, reckless, even to her. "I could, too."

He was struggling. She could see it in the lines of his face and the tension of his brow.

"I never thought I would see you again."

The roughness behind his words pushed against her like a shove. The memories of him as a lost, cold, calm little boy resurfaced in her mind's eye.

"I won't force you to do this, Cloud. This is a big decision, and –"

"No," he interrupted. "I never thought I would see you again, and here you are." The hand gripping hers began to squeeze tighter. "I don't want to lose you again so soon."

She squeezed his hand back. "You don't have to."

"Would you still..." he trailed. He allowed the softest glow to surround him before erasing it, stuffing it back into his pores. "Even though I'm...would you still..."

She shook her head at his almost-question. "Oh, Cloud," she said, reaching up to touch his face. He tensed but relaxed immediately. "Of course I would."

He brought his hand up to press against her own. "I'll protect you, even if you don't need protecting. I'll go where you go."

The smile began to creep on her face. "It doesn't have to be Wutai forever. We could go anywhere. Cosmo Canyon. Costa del Sol –"

Cloud scoffed, but he started to smile, a barely there thing. Tifa cherished it.

"Doesn't matter to me," he said. "As long as you're there."

Tifa stood up on her tip toes and kissed him. Suddenly, the mako that blistered along her lips and swam into her mouth didn't feel like an impossible desperation. The scenes that ran behind her eyelids were pictures of a future. For once in her life, Tifa believed that the world was not only filled with awful feelings and awful creatures.

It was also filled with the challenge of crossing a rickety bridge, dangling over the mouth of fear, jaws wide and teeth jagged and beckoning. And at the end, there was the triumph of reaching the other side, brilliant and bold. There was time, whether brief or long, fleeting or endless.

Most of all, there was the bursting and blooming of possibility.


End file.
